


A Beautiful Mess

by whenitstarted



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Milligan is a Winchester, Age Difference, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Dean has anxiety, Drug Abuse, Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mary is dead, Older Castiel, Prostitution, Sam is the middle child, Shy Dean, Smut, Swearing, Twink Dean, Underage Dean, Younger Dean, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, real life AU, set in 1995, they aren't hunters in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9596285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenitstarted/pseuds/whenitstarted
Summary: Where we start here, Dean Winchester is almost fifteen and it's the year of 1995. Mary Winchester died in a house fire when Dean was eight years old, and now he raises his two brothers, Sam and Adam. His father is out most of the time, working odd jobs to get money. When he's home from work it's to get high or to sell. Dean suffers from anxiety attacks and thoughts of kissing boys.





	1. One

_**1995** _

Dean sits on his baby brother's bed, the eight year old sprawled out across his lap with his shirt rucked up to expose the scarred over burns on his back. They're watching TV quietly, Sammy already asleep on the top bunk. He rubs lotion and draws shapes on his skin, lulling Adam to sleep, his head pillowed on his folded arms. It always helps the boys fall asleep quicker if Dean stays in their room, even though Sam insists he isn't needed because he'e twelve now and he doesn't seek comfort in anyone. Dean knows it helps him too, though, and Adam needs someone to do this for him. It's his job.

Bones snores from his spot at the foot of the bed, curled up by the wall. Dean knows as soon as Adam is under the covers the dog will be up by his little brother, snuggling with him. It's a comfort for him to know they've got the dog in their room at night. Lord knows it wouldn't be Dad to protect them if something happened.

"Dean?" Adam asks sleepily, voice a whisper.

"Hm?"

"Will my burns ever go away?"

Dean sighs, frowning. How is he suppose to answer that when he knows they won't? They'll always be there. A reminder of his shitty childhood will always be with him, scarred on the backs of his upper arms, across his shoulders and down to the small of his back.

"I don't think so, buddy," he soothes in just as quiet of a voice, not wanting to wake Sam. "But that's okay. When you're older girls will think you're dangerous and cool cause you have 'em."

Adam grins, tired and innocent and sweet.

"You could tell 'em you saved a box of puppies from a fire," he continues, "that you're some big hero, you know?"

"Y'mean like you?"

The question is asked with such young curiosity, it makes Dean smile for a half a second. "I don't think I'd call myself a hero."

"You are to me," he shrugs and Dean feels his chest tighten. A look to the clock tells him it's time for Adam to go to sleep, because they've got to get up early for school in the morning. It had just been Christmas break, and Dean is almost fifteen. He knows he won't get anything on his birthday, like they didn't get anything for Christmas. He did take the boys to the park, and they had a wicked snowball fight while other families -lame families, according to Sam- sat around and ate dinner at three pm because that's what people do on holidays for some reason.

"Alright, little dude, you better get to sleep," Dean tells him, lifting him up and laying him down on the bed, pulling his shirt back down over his stomach. He's still so tiny, just like Sam was. And is, really. Sam's still very small, in height and weight, and Adam is no different. "I'll see you bright and early, alright?"

"Mhmm," he nods and Bones as already crawled up to lay with him, and Adam wraps a thin arm around his neck, pulling him closer. Dean presses a kiss to his forehead before heading to his own bedroom.

They have a computer that's meant to be for the whole family, but Dean doubts that Dad even remembers they've got one, so he brought it into his room and put it at his desk. He brushes his teeth while he waits for it to turn on. Changes into his pajamas and slides his glasses up his nose. He only uses them for reading, and only when he's at home, because he looks like a massive dweeb when he wears them.

He connects to MSN, which seems to take a thousand years, but he grins at the screen when he sees the name he'd hoped was online as well. He doesn't say anything first, and he never does. He's too anxious; nervous. But that never seems to matter, because after maybe a minute he's signaled to a new message.

**benny _  
_** _ur on early 2nite_

Dean smiles, biting his lip and wondering how he should respond. What if he wants Dean to sneak out to see him? He can't leave the boys alone, not when Dad isn't back yet.

He types out a quick response, " _just bored i guess."_

He supposes that's true. The only other thing he would be doing right now is trying to fall asleep, so.

**benny _  
_** _or u missed me?_

Dean blushes because that's the actual truth and types, " _maybe a little bit."_

**benny _  
_** _want me 2 come pick u up?_

That's what Dean had been worried about. He does want Benny to come get him, but he also doesn't. The thought of spending time with Benny makes his stomach flip and that isn't always good. He knows Benny is like him. Knows he likes boys the way they should like girls, and so he's happy he knows Benny. But he knows Benny is older than him by three years and wants to do things with him, and the last time he thought about that he worked himself up so much he just had to lay down in bed and try to breathe. He's had that feeling before, when he knows Dad is coming back from a job soon. Or when he gets a bad grade on something and his teacher needs to call home about it. It's the worst thing he's ever felt; like he's taking full breaths, but only half of them make it to his lungs. He isn't sure why it happens, but it's been happening less and less, now that Dad has a steady job and won't be home most the time when he and his brothers are.

_"can't 2nite"_   he writes back, and instantly feels bad. He's realized that when he says yes it works him into panic, and when he says no he convinces himself that Benny hates him because he won't go with him. Which, yet again, leads him to believing that everyone must hate him, because he never gets out, never does anything outside of his house. Lose-lose situation because everything sends him into a fit.

**benny**  
_nxt weekend? maybe ur bday?_

That's two weeks away, so Dean finds himself agreeing, because right now it seems like nothing but he'll probably chicken out by then. He and Benny talk for another hour or so, and he's suppose to be in bed when the front door opens loudly. He quickly tells Benny he needs to go, that they can talk again tomorrow. He shuts the computer down again and crawls into bed, faking sleep as his father's footsteps creak and thump through the hall.

His room is the first door in the hallway, and when the footsteps stop he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can. Light shines through his eyelids but he doesn't open them. His father just stands there for a moment before he huffs and closes the door again. Dean lets out the breath he'd been holding into his pillow and turns over for sleep.

He hates sleeping because he only dreams of boys. Benny especially, because Benny is older and so handsome and he's tall and strong and could lift Dean without even trying. Could protect him so easily. And so he gives in to sleep, filled with images of Benny's arms holding him and his hands touching him.

~

When Dean wakes up the next morning, Sam has already been up long enough to make himself and Adam breakfast before school. He saves Dean some eggs and toast on the counter for when he gets out of the shower.

It's always such a rush in the morning now, because they all go to different schools now; Dean a Sophomore at North Central high school, Sam a seventh grader at Shaw middle school and Adam is only in the fourth grade at Logan Elementary. The year before Dean would walk them to the bus stop and then walk to school on his own, but now there's different bus stops and Sam walks to his on his own. Dean doesn't like it. He just wants to make sure they're both alright but he can't do that now.

Dean yawns, standing at the kitchen counter and trying to eat his breakfast even though he'd rather be asleep. His brothers brush their teeth while Dean eats quickly. "Did you have homework over the break?" He asks Sam when he emerges from the bathroom, brushing the crumbs off his hands.

"Book report," he nods, stuffing things into his backpack. "Had it done the third day off, Dean."

"What 'bout you?" He points to Adam, who is now sitting on the floor and tying his shoes. His hand-me-downs from Sam. And before that from Dean.

"My cursive book. You helped me, remember?"

"I don't remember anything before nine am," he groans, standing to go brush his teeth. "We're leaving in five, Adam, be ready."

Dean tries to fix his hair while he brushes his teeth, but it's much too short for it to be much of a hassle anyways. When he goes back to the living room, Adam is alone, and so he asks, "where's Sammy?"

"He left for the bus."

This for some reason makes him angry, so he pulls Adam up to his feet and tosses him his coat, telling him to put it on. Sam is walking down the street, not even a house away yet and Dean jogs to the fence and calls for him to turn around.

"What?!"

"Do you have everything you need? Your lunch? And your report?"

Sam rolls his eyes and whines out a, "yes, Dean, I'm not a baby."

It's then that Dean notices a girl stood on the street, watching them. Dark curly hair, and about Sam's age. Sam turns to look behind him, probably saying something to the girl that Dean didn't hear, and when he faces Dean again he's blushing like mad.

"Who is that?" Dean teases, raising an eyebrow. "You got a girlfriend you're not tellin' me about?"

"S'just Sarah, she isn't my girlfriend-"

"But you wish she was."

"Shut up and take Adam to school," he pouts and turns back and starts walking towards the girl, Sarah.

"What, Sammy, she's cute! I say go for it!" He calls after and laughs when Sam gives him the finger for being an embarrassing big brother. "Come on, kid, lets get a move on, yeah?" He turns to Adam now, pointing to the open front door. "Make sure that door is locked."

Adam turns the handle and nods at Dean, running with his long, gangly legs to catch up to Dean, now outside the fence.

Once at Adam's stop, there's four other kids waiting, and one of their parents is sat reading a book with a thermos full of coffee, so he tells him to have a good day at school before turning back the other way to go to his own school.

High school isn't much different from middle school, he thinks. More kids. Harder classes and more work. He's still friends with Jo and Ash, so he doesn't pay much attention to anyone else.

Well, other than Benny.

Benny plays on the baseball team. And he's popular. And he always has a girlfriend. And he's a _Senior._  But that doesn't stop the way he looks at Dean in the halls, or how he winks across the lunch room, or how he tells him he's pretty when they talk at night.

But his favorite thing about Benny is that he doesn't know what happened. None of it. He doesn't know about how Dad smacks him and Sammy around, or what happened to Mom, or why Adam has burns on him. He doesn't know any of that.

To Benny, Dean is just pretty.

And he likes that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is something I found on my old laptop from 2014 that I never finished, and after having ZERO inspiration for writing in like 3 years, this made me want to write again! Will be a long, slow burny type fic. Would love to have some feedback, I have the first 6 chapters written (need to edit them tho) and if people read I will post more.
> 
> Also, Cas won't be introduced for a few more chapters, so tell me to post stuff to get to him faster!


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, this is a destiel fanfiction, but before we meet Cas, Dean is all cute and smitten with Benny. Hold out for the destiel, friends!  
> Also teeny bit of smut in this chapter, you've been warned.

** _Friday night, two weeks later_ **

Dean is now fifteen.

So he sneaks out of his house.

He shimmies his way out of the window, so he can kick his legs along the side of the house and drop down on his feet. It's kind of high, but not enough to injure him. And, at the bottom of that window, awaits a leather jacket wearing Benny who looks so good Dean blushes at just his sight.

"Well, look at you," he says in a hushed tone, throwing his arm around Dean's shoulders. "You're just turnin' into a regular bad boy, ain't ya?"

Dean rolls his eyes, and swats his hand away until they're out of sight from the house. Dad's home and passed out on the couch already, and the boys are in bed. Obviously, because it's almost two in the morning.

Benny parked a couple houses down, as to not wake Dean's family or have anybody take notice of the two teenagers sneaking away.

"You feel older? Wiser?" Benny smirks, throwing him a grin as they drive down the dark roads.

"I was already wise," he mutters, kicking his feet up on the dash. He feels so comfortable with Benny sometimes, but other times it's like he's swallowed a brick. Benny just shrugs and lifts his hand and rests it on Dean's slightly elevated, skinny thigh.

"Got me there. What do you wanna do, birthday boy?"

"It isn't my birthday anymore," he says, looking at the watch on his thin wrist. "You're about an hour and forty seven minutes late."

Benny rolls his eyes, and Dean tries to tell himself it was in a fond way. That he finds Dean endearing or something. But the other, louder half of his brain tells him it's that he's annoying and Benny doesn't wish to be spending his time with someone like Dean.

"Alright, well then I guess I can't give you my present," the older boy shrugs, squeezing Dean's leg teasingly. "It's pretty cool though."

"Please tell me you didn't waste your money on me?" Dean asks quietly, guilt pooling in his gut. "I don't want you to think you need to buy me presents or something- did I come off like that? Fuck, Benny I'm sorry-"

"Shut up, kid," Benny tells him in a gentle voice, tracing his thumb over the sharp bone of Dean's knee. They're parked now, somewhere Dean doesn't know and that makes him feel even more uneasy. "Hey, are you alright?"

Dean realizes he's shaking then, and he flushes, closes his eyes and starts taking deliberate breaths. He knows how to fight off a fit, if he has enough warning time and luckily he does now. He can't have Benny see him like that, and especially not over something as silly as a present. He feels a hand in his hair and he leans into it and lets it comb through his hair for an immeasurable amount of time. When he looks at Benny, he doesn't know what to say, because he doesn't want Benny to know.

"What was that?" He asks softly, fingers scratching the spot above Dean's ear, like he's a dog. It comforts him though, and he pushes himself closer, and Benny wraps his arm around his waist, hauling him into his lap. Which is okay, because he wants to be closer. Benny is safe and Benny cares about him at least a little. So he wants to be as close as he can.

"S'nothing," he answers, pressing his face to Benny's neck. "I just get kinda shaky sometimes. Freaked out I guess."

"I freak you out?"

Dean shakes his head, no. He ducks his head down, paying attention to the opened top button of Benny's shirt. "I don't know how to act around you sometimes. Not your fault," he sighs, raising his own hands to the back of Benny's neck. "You know what I want for my birthday?"

"Hm?"

Dean smiles, raising his head to look Benny in the eyes, something he has a hard time doing with anyone who isn't Sammy or Adam, and something he doesn't do often. "I want you to kiss me stupid."

Benny grins and complies, easily.

Dean isn't quite sure how, but one minute he's panting against Benny, sitting on his lap and having large, manly hands map out his skin and then the next he's laying on his back, shirtless, with Benny between his legs. It's hazy how they ended up in the backseat. They're both wearing pants, but Benny is undoing his and Dean sits bolt upright the second he realizes what is going to happen.

"I-I can't, I'm not ready, I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry, I came off as so easy and now I'm telling you I can't, I'm so sorry, Benny," he gets out in a rush, his hands on Benny's shoulders because he doesn't want him to leave and he feels so stupid now that he's bound to leave. Probably make Dean walk home because he'll be so angry with him.

Benny smiles down at him, lifts his free hand to cup Dean's jaw and traces his thumb across his cheekbone. "Kid, you think I was about to take your virginity in the back of my car?" Dean's cheeks heat at the way he put it and because he makes it sound like that isn't what was about to happen or something when it definitely was. "This is the first time we've fooled around, I'm not about to fuck you here and now, even if you wanted me to."

Dean thinks he's in love.

"Then how come you're," he gestures to Benny's hands, where he's unbuttoned his jeans.

"I don't know about you, but I'm uncomfortable as hell with jeans on right now," he says, pressing his palm to the very obvious bulge that is his erection. Dean wonders if it's as big as it looks through his pants. "It's your birthday, I think the least you should get is a handjob in the back of my car, and I sure as hell am not about to wear pants through it."

Dean is now all the sudden embarrassed for an array of reasons. Benny thinks he's innocent and naive and knows nothing about sex. Benny might be bigger than he is. That one is for sure, actually, Dean would bet. Also, he's a virgin and he's already trying to hold himself back from finishing too quickly.

"Okay," is what he says, and lets Benny push him back. He must see the hesitance in Dean's eyes because he gets his pants down a bit, and then he pulls out his dick, right in front of Dean, stroking himself while his other hand braces his body above Dean's.

"See," he groans out, voice huskier than before. "Ain't nothin' to it, kid."

Dean's eyes can't be pried away from the movement of Benny's fist, and he almost pouts when he lets go of himself to start undoing Dean's pants. Before he knows it, his dick, untouched by anybody but himself, is in Benny's hand. Benny, who drops down and kisses at his neck, telling Dean to let go and loosen up, that there isn't anything to be embarrassed of. That his cock is pretty just like the rest of him.

That part makes him arch stupidly and pathetically, scratching at Benny's naked back and thrusting his hips into another boy's fist. Benny is grinding down against him too, Dean can feel the nudge of him against his hip, the wetness dripping onto his skin and he whimpers.

"You think I'm pretty?" He pants, right on the verge of coming.

"Think you're so pretty," Benny tells him, twisting his wrist just so. "Such a pretty boy, pretty like a damn girl."

Dean isn't sure -really has no clue- why that makes him come. It does though. Maybe it's the whole, attention needing thing, and being called pretty makes him feel pretty and that's a good feeling. Even so, he isn't about to think about that, because he just got his first handjob in the back of a cute, older boy's car, at two in the morning on his fifteenth birthday.

And said cute, older boy comes on his tummy a few moments later. And Dean has never felt so wanted and needed in his whole life.

They doze in the backseat for maybe an hour before Benny takes them through the drive-through at a fast food joint called Dick's. It makes them both laugh much too hard considering how the night has already gone. The person who hands them their food tells them to remember Dick's when they're hungry, and Dean is convinced the guy just says it to make people laugh.

The food is good, for being a fast food place that sells cheeseburgers, corndogs and pizza. Kind of odd, but his fries are delicious. Or maybe it's just because Benny reaches over and feeds them to him and it makes his heart dance stupidly. He doesn't want to go home.

"You wanna come back to my place?" Benny asks once they're finished eating, as if he could see that Dean kind of didn't want to leave his side. Rather, he just doesn't want to go back to his father, but Benny can think it's him being needy.

"Can't," Dean sighs and ignores the urge to run his fingers through his hair, because they're greasy from the fries and burger. "Dad would kill me if he found out I was out at all."

"You're already out, though," he grins, hand circling Dean's thigh and squeezing. "I can drop you back off in the morning if you want."

He does want. He really, really wants.

But.

"I've gotta walk my kid brother's to the bus early, or else I would, I swear," he finds himself confessing, because he doesn't want Benny thinking he just doesn't care about him, or that he's bored already or something. Which sends Dean's mind thinking maybe Benny doesn't care about him. Maybe he just wants him to come over so they can fool around some more.

"Are you listening, kid?" Benny asks, boyish grin ever present. Dean blushes, looks to his lap where Benny's large fingers hold onto his leg. He shakes his head. "Said that's fine. How're you gettin' back in the house?"

"Probably climb up to my window," Dean shrugs. He hasn't really thought about that, actually. Dad would hear the front door, no doubt. He's probably still on the couch.

When they pull up a couple houses away from Dean's house, Benny opens his door and follows him, so Dean asks as polite and quiet as he can, "what are you doing?"

"Not just gonna let you climb up there alone. If you fall without me there, your old man will find out you left. Or you'll break your leg or somethin'," he tells him in a hushed voice. He hops the fence to avoid making noise, and Dean follows suit. "This way, you fall, I'll catch you."

"Who says I'll fall?" He grumbles, because as nice as the gesture is, it's basically just saying, 'ha-ha, you're too weak to pull yourself up'.

Benny shrugs, smiling. "You might not. You are kinda scrawny, though."

"Fuck you," he replies, shoving at Benny's side. He doesn't even wobble.

"Think it might be the other way 'round, princess," Benny winks, and Dean blushes. Of course he blushes. He blushes at every fucking thing. Especially things Benny says that have sexual connotation.

He doesn't have a witty remark back and so he just tries to hide his heated face from the taller boy, ducking his head towards the ground. Outside his window, Benny laces his fingers together and motions for Dean to step into his cupped hands. Dean balances himself with one hand against the house and the other on Benny's broad shoulder, who raises him enough for Dean to grab onto the ledge of the window he left open half way. He crawls in and thumps to the ground, perking his head up to listen for his Dad, but hears nothing.

Dean stands back up and looks down to where Benny is still standing and gives him a thumbs up. Benny blows him a kiss and walks away, and Dean goes to bed smiling like an idiot, even though he has to be up in three hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I'm doing 2 updates tonight because I want you all to tell me you love me and stuff. do leave a comment if you're interested!  
> possibly the introduction of Cas in the next chapter, so stay tuned for that, please :*


	3. Three

Saturday, Dean wakes up to deep voices outside his bedroom door. He hears his Dad and at least one other guy, along with footsteps going downstairs, and he groans and rolls off of his stomach to look at the clock.

It's barely noon.

He's sixteen, it's Saturday, he should still be sleeping. But whatever. He figures Sam must have got up with Adam for breakfast otherwise the kid would have woken him up much earlier. One of his arms is all tingly from being trapped under his body for a few hours while he slept, but he uses his other hand to press against his right eye, wiping the sleep away.

He doesn't get up right away, for a few reasons. His Dad has company, and he knows what that means. Stay in a bedroom until they're gone and pretend you never even heard they were here. Also, his bed is warm compared to the nippy February weather outside the comfort of the blankets (that could probably go for a washing, he notes). Dean knocks his water bottle off the nightstand when he reaches for it, and then just decides he isn't thirsty enough to bend down to the floor and grab it.

Dean gives himself about five more minutes before he stands and walks over to his dresser, pulls out a shirt and some jeans for the day. Except, he ends up laying down on top of his covers, in only his boxers, dozing back into dreamland.

When he's awoken again, it's by Dad.

"Get up."

"M'up," he mutters quickly, leaning up on his elbows (because he'd somehow rolled onto his stomach, yet again.) "I'm up. Do you need me to do anything?"

"There's a sink full of fuckin' dishes that for some reason hasn't been done," he's in the doorway, door swung open completely. The toilet in the hallway bathroom flushes. "And if you could get your ass out of bed for ten minutes to get your brother some lunch, that'd be peachy, Dean."

Dean flushes and nods, looks to his own hands in front of him so he doesn't have to look his Dad in the eyes. "Yes sir. Sorry."

John doesn't say anything more, because maybe he knows he doesn't have to. Knows that you only have to tell Dean once and he'll get on it. With Sammy, it's a little different story.

The bathroom door opens and out comes one of his Dad's friends into the hallway, and not the one Dean likes. Dean knows why he's here and he doesn't even like the thought of the man in his bathroom. The sight of him makes his skin crawl, everything about him makes Dean uneasy. Most things do, to be fair, but this guy, he's got this smile that he gives Dean when Dad isn't looking and it just makes him want to puke. Whenever he's over, he's got a suit and tie on, and it's typically on the weekends.

Dean realizes then that Dad isn't there and that he's still on his bed in almost nothing while the guys pauses at his door, waits for Dean to meet his eyes, and then smiles. And then he's gone.

Dick Roman is his least favorite of his father's customers. 

There's another guy that buys from his Dad, an older guy. Dean wouldn't mind as much if Cain was sending him the looks Dick Roman tends to, but Cain only ever smiles at Dean with eyes full of hope. He once told Dean that he reminds him of himself when he was young and that he wishes Dean would chose a better path than the one he did.

For a meth head, Dean quite likes Cain.

Dad only sells to four guys, five tops. They're his regulars. And yeah, Cain is nice to Dean and doesn't leer at him, but that doesn't mean he wants a guy who hangs out with his Dad and gets high with him to be around him or his brothers.

Dean dresses quickly and walks down the short hall to his brother's room, the door cracked just barely.

"You hungry?" He asks Adam, poking his head in. "Where's Sam?"

"He went to see _Sarah_ ," the eight year old has the audacity to roll his eyes, and bless him, he got that from Sam. "He'll be home by dinner time, I think. And no thanks."

Dean nods and reminds himself to ask Sam how things are going with his little girlfriend. Not even give him a hard time about it, because at least Sam is living a bit of a normal life and actually goes outside the house.

"Let me know when you get hungry."

In the living room sits his Dad, Dick, and the guy who sometimes comes over with Dick. Edgar, he thinks his name is. He turns before anyone can see him and pops his head back into his brother's room. "Dad's got company over, so I'm closing this. Don't come out, I'll bring you a sandwich in an hour, okay?" 

"Kay," he says, looking up from the book in his lap to quickly nod at Dean. Adam doesn't get it like he and Sam do. He's too young to get it. But when Dad has guys he sells to over, he knows to listen to the both of them. Like he just knows it serious, but not _why_  it's serious. 

Closing the door tight, he holds his breath and ducks his head as he passes the living room, where Led Zeppelin is playing loudly -Dean thinks he'll never be able to enjoy this music if only because his father has tarnished it for him by enjoying it himself- and his father's head is lowered to one of the many white lines. Not that Dean is one to stand up for is father, ever really, but he will say that he normally sticks to what he knows when it comes to drugs. But if he has friends over he'll pretty much do whatever the group wants, and apparently today that's cocaine.

Which again, while not agreeing with it, Dean realizes it's better than smoking meth with your buddies while two of your kids are in the house. Though it hasn't ever stopped him before.

Stepping into the tiled kitchen, he closes the door as softly as he can before padding across into their adjacent dining room, he closes the other door that leads to the living room. It kind of all wraps around, and Dean wants to make sure he won't be bothered so he can get this all done as quick as he can.

The thing about living with somebody who does hard drugs on the regular, in this case coke, is you'd think said coke would maybe hinder their hunger, or make them so anal they felt the need to clean the entire house, or whatever bullshit they don't teach you in school. So walking back into the kitchen, Zeppelin's _Trampled Under Foot_  muffled though the wall, but still loud enough for Dean tap his foot to, -because, shit, they're a great band, why does his Dad liking something mean he has to hate it?- he groans at not just the sight, but the smell. It's astounding how this has happened in the two days since Dean last cleaned the kitchen. 

The sink is full of chilled water and dirty dishes, food left unscraped of them and thrown lazily into the vomit inducing, brown, slushy water. Bits of food float around, but he knows the worst of it is stuck to the bottom of the sink, or so far jammed in the drain he'll have to unclog the sink again.

Ignoring the dishes, the counter that once upon a time was white but is now more of a yellow color, holds a broken coffee pot, some of the now dried liquid has dripped down the front and shines with what looks like a taffy-like sticky texture, which will require some hardcore scrubbing. Not to mention the floor underneath, and all the broken glass. Dean wonders when this even happened.

Forty five minutes later, you'll find Dean taking the last of the first load of dirty dishes out of the dishwasher, the second load he hadn't wanted to wait, so he'd just washed them all by hand after unclogging the sink and scrubbing at the disgusting spots that still lingered around the rim of where the water had sat for so long. He jumps at the feel of a hand on the small of his back and nearly drops the pot (that had been filled with absolutely foul mac and cheese, completely untouched with flies swarming around it while Dean gagged and emptied it into the garbage) when he hears his brother's voice. 

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Adam says in a soft voice. Dad's friends are still out in the living room, being loud and obnoxious but thankfully leaving him alone. "I just, I had to let Bones out and I got bored in the backyard."

"I told you to stay in your room, man," he says softly, handing Adam the silverware container so he can put the utensils away himself. "Leave the dog out, if he comes in he'll attack one of them."

"And that'd just be so bad," Adam grumbles, putting the cutlery away. "Who are they anyways? They've been here a long time."

"Some guys Dad knows," Dean tells him dismissively, wiping down the counter. "They'll probably be gone soon. Hungry yet?"

Adam shakes his head, a pout set on his lips, and Dean raises an eyebrow at his profile, because he seems to be avoiding eye contact now. "What's up?"

He shakes his head again, and Dean sighs, pulling the now full trash bag out of the garbage can. Tying it at the top, he leans against the counter, facing the fridge. He wonders if there's even anything in there to make the kid lunch with.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or do I have to read your mind?"

Adam sighs and hands the plastic container back to Dean, who places it in the dishwasher and closes it back up. "I don't like those guys. And I don't like when Dad's like that."

Dean nods, because yeah, he gets that.

"Go through the bathroom and Dad's room to get back to yours," he starts, fanning out another bag to put in the bin. "Grab Bones leash and meet me in the back. Three of us can go for a walk or somethin'."

"Really?" He asks, childlike excitement in his eyes and voice.

"Be quick about it though, you know Dad'll whoop you if he catches you in his room," Dean warns him, though that isn't quite true for Adam. Adam will get a stern talking to, and then whoever is closest at that moment, Dean or Sam, will probably get swung at for letting the kid do whatever he did wrong. Adam is a good kid, so that doesn't happen often, but it isn't really like Dad needs an excuse to hit someone. For a long while it was just him, but then Sam got old enough to start having opinions and talking back, and it turned into both of them, but, not to throw Sam under the bus, Dean thinks he does a lot better about biting his tongue around Dad. 

Mostly because he's too scared to say anything that he'll wish he would have said had he thought of it at the time. At night, that's the worst, after a beating. Because that's when you think of the best comebacks, because if he's going to get the shit beat out of him either way, he wishes he could just let loose and blow up. At least once. Maybe then it'll be worth it to turn up at school the next day with a black eye, laugh it off and say your Dad took you out to play ball and he accidentally got you right in the face.

It isn't often that people ask, anyways.

He tosses the garbage out and Bones rushes to him excitedly, tail wagging as he jumps on him. When Adam emerges holding his leash, Dean has to physically hold the dog back from attacking his little brother out of pure happiness to be going for a walk.

Dean loves spending time with his brothers. Sam is smart as anything and can already think of better comebacks than him. And Adam, he just reminds him so much of younger, more naive Sam. Back when Sam didn't know what their Dad does, before he got hit for speaking up. Dean wonders how much longer Adam has before Dad doesn't see him as a little kid and will start treating him like his other sons. He hopes never.

That being said, as much as he loves spending time with innocent, little Adam, he's also a very curious child. As they walk to the park, he starts asking questions, just like Sam did. He put off answering them for him, so he plans to do that with Adam too. Eight is too young to worry about that stuff, he reckons.

"What were they doing?"

"Grown up stuff," Dean replies stiffly. He tugs Bones away from a tree he'd been sniffing for the past minute. "Don't worry about Dad, or any of his friends."

"I don't know what to say to them though."

"Nothing," Dean shrugs, because though that doesn't work with him, it probably would with Adam. They'd just write it off as the kid being shy, but if Dean doesn't reciprocate conversation, he's rude. "Did they say anything to you?"

"The tall guy waved to me when he was coming out of the bathroom," Adam admits, looking at his ratting converse against the sidewalk. It's nice out today, and for that they're both grateful. It's better for everyone if they just aren't there when Dad is. "I thought it was you so I looked out, but it was the guy in a suit and he waved at me."

"Especially don't talk to him," Dean grinds his teeth, because it's one thing for him to be creepy with Dean, but it's really not okay with him being around Sammy or Adam. "Like, never any of them, but especially that guy." 

"He kinda creeps me out."

"Me too."

They spend the day at Burns park, only a couple blocks away from their house. Dean buys them burritos from a taco truck even though it makes him a bit uneasy, because how clean can those things really be?

He gets to play fetch with Bones and watch Adam on the swings, because he somehow thinks he's too old to play on anything other than the swings, now that he's eight. Dean wishes he knew where Sarah lived, because he'd stop by and pick up Sammy on the way home, but he doesn't, and that would embarrass the kid probably. So he and Adam and Bones make their way home when it starts getting colder, and Dean finds himself wishing Benny were here to drive them in his heated car. It's only just turned February, and while the snow has mostly melted from the last round they got hit with, the forecast says that today would be the last snow-free day, and by the time they're in the backyard again, tiny, light flakes that melt as soon as they touch your person, are falling from the now cloudy sky.

They enter through the backdoor and into the kitchen just in case Dad still has people over. It's just after five now, and when they walk in they can hear yelling. Dean tells Adam to wait in the kitchen and he pushes the door into the living room open, seeing Dad, towering over Sam, red in the face while Sam stands up to him. That's the thing so different about he and Dean, Dean just takes it, but Sam still tries to stick up for himself. Can't be mad at the kid for that. 

John only gets a shove against Sam's chest before Dean is thundering over there, stepping in between them and telling Sam to get the hell away. It's like Dad doesn't even notice the change in kids, because while Sam is still in the room, he's trained on Dean now, and he takes the hit like he always does. Takes the next one, even though he isn't sure why he's mad, why he and Sam were fighting, doesn't know why he even intervened.

Only yeah, so Sam wouldn't get this.

Teachers stopped asking Dean about the bruises he turns up to school with. He doesn't want to make Sam lie too.

Once he's on the ground, Dad only kicks him once, so he'll take that over some of the other times this has happened. He knows it can get and has gotten a lot worse than it just did. 

He does taste blood in his mouth though, and he can hear Adam crying in the kitchen still. Dad's gone, either downstairs or in his room, but it doesn't matter because now Dean will have to scrub the carpet because he's coughed blood up on it.

"What happened?" He asks, when Sam comes back into his view holding a washcloth. He wipes under Dean's nose and around his mouth. He doesn't think his nose is broken, so that is a plus.

"I came home from Sarah's and Dad and some guys were in here. I tried to go through the dining room and just walk the long way, but he starts interrogating me," Sam mutters softly, lifting Dean's face a bit more towards the light coming through the window. "I told him I came back on time and I did my chores before I left anyways, but you know how he is when he's messed up. And those guys were still here and I think he wanted to prove he was tough shit or something, I don't know. They took off before any of the real fighting happened."

Sounds pretty plausible.

"Come through the backdoor, always," Dean tells him sternly, and Sam nods. "Go tell Adam I'm alright and that it's done. I need to go check how bad it is." 

"I'm sorry," Sam blushes, eyes glassing over. "I know I shouldn't try and be tough with him. I'm sorry."

"S'fine, Sammy," he grins, even though it's not and they both know it. "Make sure Adam's okay, I'm fine."

~

That night Benny wants to come pick Dean up, but he's got a black eye and his face is swollen. And if the were going to...do stuff, he'd see the bruise over his ribs for sure. He tells him he can't, and Benny doesn't sound mad or anything.

But then a half an hour later, when he's nearly asleep even though it's just passed ten at night on a Saturday, -and he slept until noon, but getting the fuck beaten out of you kinda takes a lot of energy- he's awoken from his dozing by a noise at his window.

Which had to be Benny.

Because that's Dean' luck.

Dean isn't sure what he's suppose to do because Benny has just climbed up to his bedroom window and is barely hanging on enough to tap his knuckles to get Dean's attention, and since when is that Dean's life, honestly?

 

This isn't Sixteen Candles, or some shit. This is life.

Real boys do not, absolutely do not, climb through windows at night in real life. Especially _Dean Winchester's_ window.

But, because he knows he has to, he stands in his boxers and tee shirt, moves over to his window, -without wincing, thank you very much- and slides it open. When Benny crawls through, he doesn't thump to the floor like Dean does. He barely makes a sound, but then he's standing right there, right in front of him, looking down at him with the grin that makes Dean blush and all he hopes is that he can't see his face properly in this lighting.

"I didn't know I'd be wakin' ya," he starts, voice soft, which is awfully considerate of him. "I just thought you were tryin' to ditch me or somethin'. Didn't know you'd be actually asleep," then he puts his pointer finger under his chin and tips his face up, pressing his lips so softly against Dean's he wonders if it even happened.

Fuck, maybe this isn't actually happening. That'd make more sense.

Yeah, he's probably just dreaming, he thinks.

"Dweeb," Benny whispers when they part, and Dean laughs against his mouth despite everything, because Benny makes his stomach feel funny and right now that's a good thing.

"I wasn't trying to ditch you," Dean murmurs then, because how could somebody like Benny worry about something like that? He hopes it isn't obvious in his voice, quiet as it is, that he'd cried earlier. Not really for the pain or whatever, because he took some pills that were in the medicine cabinet and it isn't so bad anymore. Thinking now, he isn't sure why he'd cried, because he should be over his Dad hitting him.

Hating him.

Resenting him.

He just can't get over it.

"Just tired is all," he clears his throat just in case Benny heard it then, because he thinks his voice sounds different but maybe that's because he knows why it is.

Benny casts a look to Dean's bed, blankets pulled back and quite inviting looking. "Wanna lay down?"

Dean nods and takes Benny by the hand to his bed. He hopes he isn't looking to fool around tonight, because his ribs kind of hurt and he doesn't feel like it after the shit day he's had. He kicks his shoes off near the foot of the bed, and when they crawl in bed together, and Dean is laying facing him, his face on Benny's shoulder, the older boy's arm curls around his waist and his free hand bushes the hair out of his eyes. He kisses his forehead.

Benny seems to be on the same page as Dean, and closes his eyes, wraps him a bit closer and Dean winces when his abdomen presses too hard against Benny's side. Which of course catches his attention.

"You okay?"

"Mhm," he nods quickly. "Me n' Sammy played football today. Kid tackles harder than you think he could."

He doesn't buy it, for some reason. Dean thinks he's quite the liar now, but maybe his sleepiness is making him less believable.

Benny turns so Dean is on his back completely and raises his shirt up to his armpits. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness, Benny sees the bruise his father left on his body, and when he raises his gaze back to Dean, he catches how swollen his face is, how the whole left side is puffy and he seems to connect dots that Dean didn't realize he left for connecting.

"You wanna tell me what the hell happened?"

He's mad, Dean hears it, he's mad at him. He's mad that Dean lied to him, or didn't tell him the full story, he's mad that Dean let him think he was normal enough to want to kiss and crawl through windows for when he's really just a mess, he's mad at Dean and for some reason that hurts as bad as the punches and kicks. His voice was quiet, but he can tell he's made him mad and doesn't realize he's shaking until there's a hand on his face, cupping his cheek. It's the bad side, but the hand is gentle, so it's okay.

"I'm sorry," Dean's voice quivers and he is so embarrassed on top of all the other shit he's feeling. "I'm so sorry, you- please, you can't be mad at me, don't-" he takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself because this can't happen in front of Benny. He'd never want to see him again. "Don't be mad at me."

Benny doesn't respond for a while, just wipes away tears that Dean wishes he hadn't let fall. He kisses his cheek and it's nice, and gentle, and he's calming him down and Dean lets it happen, and Benny just shushes him when he starts whispering to stay, not to leave yet, that he isn't a freak, he promises.

"I just want to know what happened to you," he tells him once the tears have stopped slipping down his cheeks and sliding onto the pillow from the corners of his eyes. "Not mad at you. Just, you just gotta talk to me, just tell me what's goin' on."

He shakes his head, because he can't tell him, can't tell anybody, because if anyone found out he'd be taken away from Sammy and Adam, and they'd be separated too and he knows he couldn't take that. They'd be away from Dad, but it wouldn't be worth it because they'd be alone.

"S'nothing," he tells him, voice cracking. "I mean it, I- nothing, nothing is going on."

"I won't tell," Benny says then, eyes dropping to the pillow behind Dean's head, avoiding eye contact. "If this is- Dean, if your daddy's doin' this to you, I swear I won't tell anybody. Is that-" his eye come back up and Dean wants to shake his head again, wants to tell Benny to fuck off for saying that. He can't though. So he does nothing. Says nothing. But that's enough.

"My old man use to throw my Mama around," Benny stammers, biting his bottom lip. "It got bad. S'why we came up here. He got to me once 'er twice. That's when she figured she'd get to usin' the money she'd been saving up and get us outta there." Dean doesn't know what to say. He is grateful for Benny telling him though. That much he knows.

"You can't-" he tries, but his stupid throat closes up. He tries to swallow the lump, but it stays anyways. "You can't tell anyone, Benny. They'd take me and my brothers away, we'd be separated. You just can't tell."

Benny kisses him and Dean knows he won't.

When they pull apart, Dean feels kind of okay.

"Can I tell you somethin'?" Dean asks, letting Benny roll off of him and onto his side. He turns to face him.

"Course ya can," he grins, carding his fingers through Dean's hair, and he leans into it like a cat.

"So, uh." How do you even begin to tell someone something you don't even fully understand? He knows it's for the best, because Benny calmed him down before he could work himself into a fit, and so maybe if he knows, he'll be able to do it again. "There's this thing. Like, I've got this problem where I get really upset. Or sad, or mad, or just, overwhelmed, I guess. I just, when I feel too much of something negative, it gets bad."

"I don't think I follow."

"I don't really get it, so it's hard to explain," Dean admits, cracking his knuckles because that's just something he does. A tick, of some sort, he supposes. "Like, tonight, I got so scared you would be mad at me or hate me, and that you'd leave because I'm weird or something, that I could feel it building in me. Starts in my gut, but it goes up to my throat when it gets bad, and I can't breathe- like, it's like every breath I take only feels like a half of what it was, and every time, it's half of what it was the breath before. Does that make sense?"

He doesn't give Benny a chance to respond, because now he's on a roll and he just wants somebody, _anybody,_ to understand the shit he feels and tell him that it's fucking normal or something. "The first time it happened, it was just a few months after my Mom died. I was eight, almost nine or something, and Dad-" _was fucked up. High as a kite,_ his brain supplies, but- "he was out of it and heartbroken from Mom. He stopped going to work for a while, and I tried to talk to him. Told him that I needed lunch money, cause I was almost out. That was- he blew up on me. First time he hit me, too," he shakes his head and avoids Benny's sympathetic eyes. _Shouldn'tbesayingthiswhyareyoutellinghimthis._  "I was just a kid. I was Adam's age now, you know? I was little, and he beat the shit out of me and I was so scared, I went in the backyard and sat in Bones' old dog house with him for hours. I just cried and I couldn't breathe, and I was so scared and I eventually passed out. Woke up and it was dark and Bones was laying over me. That was just when it changed, I think, cause I've been the same fucking way ever since, I just feel too much and I get these fits and I can't breathe and just cry like a fucking girl, and it's his fucking fault."

But he doesn't cry then, because he's imagined that day over and over and over until his brain ached as much as his heart did. So now he doesn't cry. He lets Benny hold him and tell him that his Dad's a piece of shit and that he doesn't deserve that. He falls asleep in big, strong arms and he wishes he could be that honest with everybody. He's lucky Benny doesn't think he's a freak now.

When he wakes up next, it's five thirty in the morning and Benny is gone, but there's a sticky note apologizing for his leaving stuck to his nightstand, and all he can do is smile, because last night he was a wreck and Benny still cares, and maybe he's going to be okay for once. Who fucking knows.

But because nothing good can last, not for Dean Winchester at least, things fall apart by mid-April.

Of course they fucking do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to work on this a lot today so I can have lots of it ready & can post regularly because school is closed today because Washington does not understand it's February and snow needs to stop and as a teacher I don't normally have much time in the week so I am taking advantage of the snow day! I would appreciate it greatly if you all let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! xoxx


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter is shorter than what I've been doing but I'm trying so don't hate me pls.

"Gabriel," Castiel soothes through the phone, voice soft as he attempts to console his older brother, who continues to blubber about a breakup he's suffering through. Castiel does feel awful about it, he'd been with the woman for nearly five years, and Gabriel doesn't even _do_ relationships. He figures after this, he'll go back to being with strings of women who mean nothing to him, which makes him more than angry. No one should be allowed to hurt his brother enough to make him go back to his, 'love isn't real, it's all fake' ideas. "Is Gadreel there? Have you called him?"

"On his way," Gabriel sniffles, and Castiel hears the swish as he takes another gulp of what is probably alcohol. "Cas- fuck, Cas, it's such bullshit- fucking bullshit."

"I know."

Gabriel keeps on like that for about five more minutes, and then Castiel hears his other brother, Gadreel's voice, telling Gabe to sit up and put the bottle down. He was drunk when he called Castiel twenty minutes ago, and had been drinking the whole way through his conversation. He would have been there, in a heartbeat, had he been in town. He lives closer to Gabe than Gadreel does anyways.

Alas, Gadreel reassures Castiel over the phone that he'll be staying with him for the night to make sure he gets to bed and is alright. Castiel hangs up his cell phone with a sigh and puts it on the charger, because he'll probably get another call from one of his brothers and it was almost dead from their last conversation.

Kali had to break up with him _this_ weekend. It had to be the weekend that Castiel went all the way to New York for work. And it's not like he can just, go back now and try and cheer up his heartbroken brother, no, he's got work to do. Work, that he admittedly loves doing, but now his mind will be stuck on a loop of his brother sobbing.

See, Castiel chose a bit of a different route with his life than his brothers did. They're twins, and quite alike in everything other than appearance. The two of them are only twenty nine, and they've got a quite successful landscaping business together. Novak Industries. Castiel sometimes does work under the table with them when he isn't off somewhere with his own job. Being a motivational speaker, it's a lot more traveling and a lot more fun than Cas thought it would be, and he's very happy doing what he does. Most people, when he tells them his occupation, immediately peg him as a religious nut job, though that is not the case whatsoever.

While Castiel and his brothers were raised going to church every Sunday, -no exceptions- and given his job, he is not overtly religious. He believes in a God, yes, and he works with churches, but not how most people would think. The religious part of his motivational speaking, it's not a large part. Just the official title, really. Castiel helps troubled youth, traveling around the United States to help kids who are scared and confused like he was at that age. His parents, who push their own beliefs on him, do not approve of how he goes about 'spreading the word of God', because they think he's spreading the wrong word.

Mostly because Castiel grew up as a gay kid in the seventies, where he was afraid to tell anybody, not even his brothers and definitely not his parents. The kids he sees, they've been taught that something is wrong with them, and parents, for the most part, bring their kids to see Castiel as a last resort, when praying the gay away doesn't work. He doesn't mind being the last option on their list though, because he knows that he's helped kids who need it like he needed it.

He goes to churches and tells them what he believes. He helps adults, he helps kids, he helps anyone who comes to him. Castiel does focus on the whole, 'troubled youth', part the most, because that's really what hits home for him. It's what he's good at. Gabriel tells him he's more of a therapist.

Castiel says therapists make more money than he does, and he didn't go to college for that.

And then Gabriel hits him and tells him he's therapist.

His meeting tomorrow isn't even at a church, so he figures that maybe that's sort of true. It's at a center, the name of which he cannot remember, for teenagers. The man who runs it says that a girl who would go there on weekends, only seventeen years old, committed suicide recently after years of bullying at school for her sexuality. He said they needed someone to come talk to the kids, and he thought Castiel was perfect for the job, seeing as most kids believe that -because of their parents- being attracted to someone of the same gender is a sin.

Therapist, religious motivational speaker, call it what you want, Castiel is helping people. So he enjoys his job.

Though he doesn't enjoy it now, knowing his brother is hurting so much back at home.

Castiel orders room service just before midnight and hopes the cooks don't spit in his food for asking so late. He falls asleep soon after eating half of the medium cheese pizza, that most definitely didn't have a loogie in it.

Or so he hopes, at least.

~

Castiel likes it when his days go like today went.

He wasn't in a church, where parents cast judgmental looks to their kids. He wasn't up on a stage, looking down to the kids he was trying to help. They were all on the same level, sat in a circle in equally uncomfortable chairs. There was no vibe of, _I am the adult here, I have power over you teenagers._

Days like today remind him why he loves his job.

He talked to the group and a couple kids came up to him in private afterwards to ask him questions, and they were all respectful and kind to him. No complaints.

But he does catch the first flight back to Spokane, because right now he needs to be with his brother. And sleeping in his own bed.

Gadreel's picking him up at the airport for once, because normally when he travels he pays to leave his car there, so he needn't rely on someone to pick him up, but for some reason, Gadreel had talked him out of it this time. Which he regrets, because he'd like someone to stay with Gabriel, but it's too late for that now.

He thanks God that he doesn't have to travel anywhere requiring a plane for another month and a half, because the screaming baby sat behind him absolutely does not make for a soothing sound to fall asleep to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys its me again, sorry I'm actually the worst at posting, but writing is weird and sometimes I don't feel like it and also I am fresh into the world of teaching so it's like hard to balance planning and work and social things and writing plus I get hungry sometimes. Anyways sorry if you've been waiting 100 years on me! also Cas has arrived in story but it may take a minute for him to actually meet Dean.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes homophobic slurs and insults that made me sad to write. Just warning ya'll.

Benny and Dean, they've been getting more serious. It's been months, nearly three to be exact and now it's almost summer break and he's still not bored of Dean. Still wants to spend time with Dean and kiss Dean and sneak into Dean's room at night and hold him.

 

Some days Benny skips his fourth period class, because that's when Dean's lunch is, and he takes him to get burgers and then they kiss in his car and Dean ends up late to his next class, but he doesn't care because Benny still wants to kiss him, and even though they can't hold hands in the hallway or kiss outside his locker before classes, Benny winks at him when they're across the hall from each other. Or brushes his hand against Dean's when they pass by each other.

It's been going so good that Dean is almost surprised it hasn't gone bad yet.

Well, until it does.

John is going out for work this weekend, leaving around noon on Friday and probably won't be home for a week or so. And so, because high school gets out at two, and Sam and Adam won't get home until at least three thirty, he figures he aught to use the free alone time at his house wisely, and invites Benny over.

Isn't that what teenagers are suppose to do? Invite their boyfriend over when their parents go out of town?

Either way, Friday after school finds Dean riding shotgun in Benny's car, nervous as ever, because he knows what's going to happen. He knows this is the moment. That today he and Benny are gonna...do it. And it makes him blush just to think about it, if he's honest with himself.

He thinks these are good nerves though, because while he is anxious about the whole, losing his virginity thing, and worried about it hurting, he's also excited, because Benny wants to. He _wants_ to get in bed with Dean. And he never thought he'd meet someone who thinks he's attractive enough to get in bed with. Well, minus his Dad's creepy, old, drug addict friends.

Dean lets them in with his key, and checks around the house to make sure Dad is gone. The car's still out front, but he normally catches a ride, so that isn't really a giveaway to anything. He pops his head in the kitchen and looks down the hall before turning to Benny with a grin, biting his bottom lip.

The next thing he knows, he's lifted up in Benny's strong arms, legs wrapped around his torso, and he's being kissed stupid. Benny knows where his bedroom is, and he walks down the hall, laying Dean out on his bed and crawling on top of him, between his thin legs, all without breaking the kiss.

Dean's hands are in his blonde hair, tugging his mouth back to his lips, because Benny knows not to leave marks on his skin, that Sam will ask him about a girlfriend, or his Dad will say something.

He's got Benny's hand slipped down the front of his jeans now, and he's arching into it, panting and whining against the older boy. Benny is saying something to him that isn't registering because his brain is hazy with lust and adrenaline and it's hard to make out the words with the sound of his heart pounding so loudly in his own ears.

But then something does register with Dean, and that's the sound of a door closing, far away voices saying words he can't understand but he knows whose mouth they're coming out of and- oh shit, what in the fuck is Dad doing home- is what his brain helpfully provides him with right as the footsteps pass by his open bedroom door. Benny seems to have gotten the memo as well and both boys seem to be frozen, but Benny manages to rip his hand out of the younger boys pants before -

"What the fuck is this?"

Dean went from being excited and smitten and ready to give everything to a boy, to feeling complete and utter fear, because Benny is still literally between his legs in the same room as his father. He doesn't even try to stammer out some sort of response because he knows it doesn't matter what he says right now.

John takes a step into the room - they didn't even close the fucking door in their rush to get to everything so fast and that could have prevented all of this, Dean thinks - and his demeanor is calmer than one would expect. But when Dean heard voices, it was not just his father, so he's assuming one of his friends is also here and maybe he's trying to hold himself back.

He starts laughing then, and Benny finally pushes himself up off on Dean and readjusts his shirt, eyes watching John's every move while Dean stays glued in place. "So you're a faggot then, Dean? Is that how I raised you? To be a fucking queer?" The anger is seeping through now, and it's even scarier because John is still smiling. Dean knows what's going to happen so he wills himself to move enough to push at Benny's shoulder, a silent 'leave'.

And then he does. Without casting a look in Dean's direction he stands and makes a beeline for the door, quickly grabbing his backpack on the way and leaving without a word.

Dean wants to cry for so many reasons in this moment in time, but fuck, that is the biggest one.

John finally makes a predictable move, lumbering towards Dean and shoving him back into place, where minutes before he had a boy he thought he loved on top of him. He crawls on top of Dean, locking him in place, his thighs trapping his legs so he can't move. John unloads only a few punches, his face red and angry. Dean tries to block them but not only is he paralyzed in fear because his life is very much not in his own hands right now, but John just grabs his arms every time and slams them back down. He cracks Dean's hand against the headboard and he thinks he felt something snap but it doesn't matter, because John's hands are quick to wrap around Dean's throat, pressing hard against his windpipe.

"Gonna let him fuck you under my Goddamn roof?! In my fucking house?" John is speaking low and close to Dean's face while Dean chokes and scrapes his nails over his father's hands, pleading him to let go. He doesn't let go though, but shakes Dean's hands off, rattling his head until Dean blacks out to the sound of his father telling him his mother would be disgusted by him if she could see what he is. 

~

When Dean wakes up again, he tastes blood and his neck feels like someone tried to rip his head off, which isn't far from what did happen. But, looking around his room he sees Sam, leaning against the closed door with Bones asleep with his head on his brothers lap. Turning slowly, he sees Adam next to him in bed, asleep with his arm wrapped around Dean's stomach.

"What the fuck happened today?" Sam asks, voice soft and calm so he doesn't wake Adam.

Dean huffs out a breath. "Just Dad being a prick. Usual."

"When I found you I thought you were dead. Tell me what happened and why he did this and why the hell he canceled his work trip this week."

Of fucking course he canceled his work trip, Dean thinks. Probably so Dean isn't left alone to fuck any guys. Because he's really in good enough shape to do that now that he had the life nearly beaten out of him.

Dean doesn't realize he's crying until Sam moves, patting Bones head in apology for waking him up with his movement. He gently sits on the edge of the bed, face somber as he looks at his older brother. Sam gestures to his neck and sighs, "Dean, what did he do to you?"

"I think he wanted to kill me," he manages, breathing shaky from trying to hold back tears. "I think he really wanted to kill me."

Dean tries to calm himself and takes a slow breath in and hopes the tears stop. "Sammy, I- he caught me doing something I shouldn't have been doing," Dean gulps down the next lump in his throat because he doesn't even think that's true, because it isn't his fault he likes boys, he just knows other people think it's wrong.

Sam nods but doesn't say anything, just waits for Dean to hopefully explain himself. And it takes at least five minutes of whispered stammering before Dean can even choke out the whole sentence.

"I was messing around with a guy and he- he just walked in and I didn't know what to do and he ran out and I was alone with Dad and I thought he was going to fucking kill me, Sammy." 

His brothers eyebrows raise but that's the only indication that he even heard what Dean said. They sit in a near silence for maybe a minute, and then all Sam says is; "I fucking hate him."

And Dean somehow has enough energy to chuckle, because okay, his brother knows and he is still on his side.

So maybe he can be okay after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been mostly Dean chapters, but after this it will most likely be a back and forth thing. I have a 3 day weekend this week so I'm trying to bust out some chapters while I actually feel like writing and get my mind off of all the wedding planning I have to do. Leave comments please, lovely humans! Sorry it was a sad one < 3


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